Black and White
by AmericanQuaterHorseRider
Summary: Joan Phillips has been obessed with finding the identies of the two men in the black and white photo since she was a young girl. When a trip to D.C gives her the lead she has been searching for she will find herself tangled in a world of lies and secrets that will challenge everything she thought she knew about her country.


Even as a small child I had always been fascinated with the three men in the black and white photograph.

One was my grandfather, a man I never got to meet in his WWII uniform with his arms draped over the shoulders of the other two. The taller of the two was an American with, as far as I could tell, mischievous blue eyes, glasses, blond hair with a cowlick, and the biggest grin known to mankind. I knew he was American due to his bomber jacket that was nearly identical to my grandfather James's. The other man was British, again the uniform, with green or maybe blue eyes, a soft smile, and messy blond hair.

When I was younger I used to make a tent out of my grandmother's bed sheets and look through all the pictures of my grandfather. That is until my older brother told me to shut off the flashlight so he could sleep. I still can't describe what drew me to that one photo. Perhaps it was the fact that my brother looked like a younger version of my grandpa. But I think it was those handsome men in the photo. I was always itching for a mystery and I was determined to find out who they were.

All I knew was their names that had been written in ink on the back of the photo. 'Alfred F. Jones… Arthur Kirkland… who are you?'

* * *

"Ladies and gentleman, if I may have your attention, the flight for Washington D.C is now boarding. I repeat the flight for Washington D.C …"

"That's your flight sweetie," my mother said ruffling my hair before standing. Quickly throwing on my grandpa's old bomber jacket I grabbed my back pack full of old journals, photos, and WWII history books.

"It's only for two months, Joan" she whispered giving me a tight hug. Yeah, that would be the majority of my summer…

My parents had divorced when I was only twelve years old and my brother, William, thirteen. While I had gotten to stay with mom, he had moved to live in Washington D.C with my father and his new family. Every summer I had to come down and live with them for two months. I would rather stay at home and sleep the summer away.

It wasn't that I don't _love_ my dad; I just don't always _like_ him. Well, more than anything I do not like his wife and probably never will. I mean I can just barely tolerate the demon spawn that are my half-brothers. My father and step-mother don't seem to have a clue about discipline, so the twins tend to run wild and annoy the crap out of me any time they see me. I mean what type of parents let their seven year old sons eat cake at two in the morning and wake up their sister… not normal ones!

I gave my mother a smile trying to hide my irritation and sorrow, "I'll miss you."

Mom held me by my shoulders and flashed me a small smile, "I love you so much, Jo."

"Love you too, Mama." Finally she let me go and I walked onto the plane.

* * *

When I had finally reached D.C I had immediately gotten my luggage, and whistled for a cab. Dad never came to pick me up; he and the step-monster were constantly working so I knew not to expect them.

Giving the driver my address I leaned back in the seat and put in my headphones. Blaring tunes I gazed up at the buildings trying to believe I was simply here for a fun trip… Who was I kidding? At least it helped ease the pent up stress in me.

Dad should be thankful that I'm such history freak; otherwise he would have to deal with a completely bored, moody teen. This year I planned on visiting every inch of the Smithsonian, pay my respects to each memorial (especially the WWII), and perhaps even find my way to Ford's Theater. Then I would convince my brother to drive me out to Grandma Phillips's house on the Fourth of the July so I could visit with her, and say hi to Grandpa Phillips's grave.

Unlike most of my family Grammy doesn't mind when I ramble on and on about all the new things I learned about WWII aircrafts. I think I remind her of Grandpa when he was my age.

Pulling up to the curb I notice that we have reached the apartment complex where my father lived. "Thanks." I handed the cab driver the fee before grabbing my luggage and heading inside.

I took the elevator up to the flat since I thankfully had a spare key to the place. When I walked in I listened for any sign of life. No sound of the demons, they must be at the daycare center.

I began to take my luggage to the room I shared with my elder brother when I felt a cold stream of air hit the back of my neck. I gave out a shout and turned around to smack my attackers face.

"Dear Lord, Joan! What the heck," William shouted bringing his hand to his wounded check.

"That's what happens when you don't greet a lady properly, moron!"

"Your no lady, you're my sister!"

"And you're my idiot of a brother!"

"Stop calling me stupid!"

"Not until you man up and greet me properly!" A sly grin grew on William's face and I turned to bolt. Too late. I was brought into a headlock as Will decided to give me the knuckle of knowledge.

"OWWW!"

"Welcome back, little Joey!"

"Don't call me that!"

* * *

After are normal spat I finally was able to get a proper hug out of my brother. Then I made him carry my luggage to our room. Thankfully William can actually be nice when he wants to be, which is pretty often, and he suggested that to celebrate my arrival we headed down to look at the White House.

I only agreed to go after he offered to buy me a hotdog on our way.

I ordered a Chicago dog while he munched on a chili dog. "So have you been thinking about which college you want to go to, pipsqueak," William said his mouth full of food.

"Swallow before you talk beanpole. And yes I have considering I'm going to be a senior next year."

"Do you know where you want to go yet?"

"No, but I do want to be a historian or a history professor."

"You should go to USAFA so I can tease you every chance I get," Will said with a crooked grin.

"No, I think I'll stick to learning about the airplanes and the history of our Air Force. I'll leave the actual flying to you."

My brother had just graduated from high school this year and had been accepted into the U.S Air Force Academy. I was proud of him and I knew that he would exceed in that branch of the military.

Will's arm was draped around my shoulder as he pulled me close, "So on the topic of fighter pilots, have you found anything about the men in the picture?"

"No not yet… It is so frustrating! I have crossed data base after data base looking for any clues, and yet there is nothing on these men. It's like they never existed!"

"Calm down Joan. I'm sure you will find something… look you can see the White House."

I looked up and sure enough there was the White House. I wiggled out of Will's grasp, slipped into the crowd of tourists and ran up to the gate that surrounded the building. Sometimes if I stood in front of the building and closed my eyes I could almost imagine what it must have been like when it was first built. The horses' hooves hitting the cobble roads as the president road up to the doors as the lamp lights illuminated his form.

I was so caught up in my daydream I barely heard the voice behind me say, "Excess me Miss."

I quickly answered, "Yes?" Then I turned around to see a man (well he only looked a few years older than me) looking at me. I felt my eyes widen as I gazed up into his face. He had bright blue eyes, dark blond hair with a cowlick, and glasses. I then noticed the bomber jacket. It looked so similar to the one in the picture…

"I couldn't help but notice your jacket. It's a WWII bomber jacket isn't it?" I nodded, completely dumbfounded. The man grinned at me, a curious look in his eyes, "Where did you get it if you don't mind me askin'?"

"I-it was my grandfather's," I said finally finding my voice. "He fought over in Europe during the war."

"Really? That's cool! What is your name by the way?"

"Joan, Joan Phillip…" I couldn't help it anymore and I blurted out, "You wouldn't happen to be related to a man named Alfred F. Jones would you?"

The man's face completely drained of color for a moment, and his expression was that of a little kid who had been caught doing something naughty. Bingo.

"Joan!" I glanced over my shoulder to see my brother with my brother running over, "I've been looking for you."

"James," I heard the man behind me whisper. Spinning back around I realized that the man was gone.

Will put a hand on my shoulder, "What are you looking at?"

I paused for a moment before muttering, "Nothing."

I finally had a lead.

* * *

**Thought of this fanfic one day during History class. I hope you like it! Enjoy and please review!**


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